Love Redeemed by Kelly Irvin

gone that far. We’ll find her. You should go back.” Despite Simon’s tense, jerky tone, he held out a water bottle. “Have a drink of water. You look like you could use one. Then get back. Your daed’s looking for you.”
    Michael took the water and drank. His thirst made it impossible for him to sip. He gulped, water running in rivulets down his face and neck into his shirt. He lowered the bottle and gasped. He wouldn’t go running back to the camp. He would keep looking until he found her.
    The two older men, only two and three years older than Michael, had identical looks on their face. They tried to mask it, but the grim set of their mouths and the lines between their eyes, the wrinkles across their foreheads—like younger versions of Phoebe’s daed—made it obvious. They knew. They knew about Phoebe and him and what they’d being doing when Lydia slipped away from the camp. Elam simply looked baffled. At fourteen, he was still a little too young to understand.
    â€œI’m sorry.” Michael knew it sounded inadequate. “About this.”
    â€œDo you have something to be sorry for?” Simon wrinkled his nose and crossed his arms over his thick chest. “Something you want to say?”
    â€œNee.” No, not to them. It wouldn’t be to these three.
    Martin kicked at a rock with a filthy boot. “Our daed knows what happened.”
    â€œHannah told him?”
    â€œHannah’s stopped talking.” The thin veneer of politeness wore away. “Seems like she might not talk again. Not for a while. The doctor says that happens sometimes when a person is traumatized. It was Phoebe. She told Mudder and Daed.”
    Doctor. Was someone hurt? Phoebe? “Why a doctor?”
    â€œThe search and rescue team brings out an ambulance with…not a doctor…what they call a paramedic.”
    Gut. That was gut. Phoebe was okay. As okay as she could be, under the circumstances. Did she blame him? Had she told the whole story?
    â€œWhat were you doing at our campsite?” Simon posed the question.
    He pulled himself to his full height and breathed. Nothing less than the truth. That’s what his daed always said. “I asked Phoebe to take a walk with me. I wanted to talk to her.”
    Martin’s hands fisted. “We’d better get back to the camp.”
    Simon nodded. “It’s gonna be dark soon.”
    They could be twins, the way they finished each other’s thoughts and sentences.
    â€œMaybe they’ve found her,” Michael offered. “Maybe she’ll be there when we get back to the campsite.”
    â€œNee.” Simon shook his head as he started along the rocky path, hisback to Michael. “The Corps has boats in the water. Other campers have volunteered to go out in their boats too. They’d sound the bullhorns if she’d been found. That’s what they told us.”
    â€œPlus they gave us radios.” Martin held one up. “So no one else gets lost. Luke wasn’t happy about it. He said only to use it in case of emergency. Like phones. Like this isn’t an emergency?”
    â€œThey’re battery-operated,” Michael agreed. “What’s the problem with that?’”
    â€œLuke’s the bishop.” Simon kept walking. “He’s responsible.”
    Michael held back a few seconds, letting the distance between him and Phoebe’s brothers lengthen. He didn’t want to walk into camp with them. Everyone’s gazes on them, thinking, hoping, praying.
    He wanted to be able to shout it out. That he’d found her. He’d been responsible for losing her, but now he’d found her. He’d be forgiven and their vacation would go on. They’d fish and hunt and make mountain pies over the fire.
    But he hadn’t. He hadn’t seen or heard one single thing that would bring them closer to a little girl in a purple dress.
    He forced